


Love is an Open Door

by Imagination_Parade



Category: A Star is Born (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Concerts, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Family Fluff, Love, Musical References, Parenthood, Romance, Sweet/Hot, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 22:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18678880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagination_Parade/pseuds/Imagination_Parade
Summary: Years after he first invited her to join his tour, Jack and Ally are on the road and spending their evenings singing together again, but things look a little different these days...





	Love is an Open Door

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly/sexy/sweet little something I thought of while listening to Broadway soundtracks the other night :)

“ _Oh, maybe it’s time to let the old ways die_.”

His voice softens and his fingers still against his guitar as Ally plays the song to its end on her piano, and the crowd in front of them erupts into cheers. His lips curve into a small, grateful grin until the microphone in front of Ally’s mouth picks up a giggle, and Jackson flashes back to their earliest shows together, when the size of the audience watching them on stage and the reaction to him – to _them_ – was the fastest way to send her into a state of euphoria. A full-blown smile breaks out on his face then. The audience’s effect on her is somehow still the same, but this isn’t one of those early shows anymore. The spotlight is more hers than his these days (though no one’s ever too far gone for a good comeback story, he’s learned), her piano sits right up at the front of the stage next to the stool where he sits and plays his guitar, and this tour, right from the beginning, is _theirs_.

It had taken them far too long, but they’d finally decided they needed an album with both of their names on the cover. They’d made appearances on each other’s records throughout the years, of course, but they reached a point where “Ally featuring Jackson Maine” or “Jackson Maine featuring Ally” just didn’t seem good enough anymore. The album (more of a success than either of them expected such a self-indulgent project to be, if they were being honest) garnered demand for live shows, so they hit the road again, just as they had done their first summer together, the shared tour an unspoken, long-held dream neither quite believed would ever make it to reality after their careers had taken such divergent paths.

Things are different now, of course, compared to that first tour, in more ways than one. The show that bears both their names – Jackson & Ally Maine, she’d insisted, because even if she doesn’t always _use_ his name, it’s hers, too – is an eclectic mix of their duets, old and new, solo songs they’ve turned into duets, and some of their most popular individual hits, each of them relishing the chance to just play a melody or sit back and watch the other perform, if only for a few minutes.

The confidence his wife displays on stage stuns him nearly every night, filling him with pride at how much she’s grown as a performer since the night she waited until the _last goddamn second_ to timidly join him on that stage in Northern California. He drinks _water_ backstage now, not whatever type of alcohol happens to be closest to him when he needs something to wet his throat, and after parties have become a private affair, largely consisting of warm showers, late dinners, and quiet snuggling in front of a television instead of actual _parties_.

The fluffy dog and the little girl on their tour bus are new this time, too, each of them bringing different kinds of chaos to an already chaotic experience, but when he’s singing next to Ally on stage, he feels like they’ve recaptured the magic of that first summer together, like they’re falling in love all over again. She leaps into his arms and laughs after every show, and Jack knows she feels that way, too.

One of the critics that reviewed the tour shortly after they’d begun marveled at their ability to seemingly have an entire conversation on stage without speaking a single word, so when he looks at her as the cheers die down and raises his eyebrow in a silent question, he knows she’ll know what he’s asking her. The smile on her face softly fades as she mirrors the gesture and tilts her head slightly towards him, indicating the answer to his question is up to him. They penciled a song into this point of the evening’s setlist, agreeing to decide in the moment whether or not to actually do it. She wants to, he knows, and though he also knows he’ll never hear the end of it from Bobby, it’s something that’ll please _both_ his girls, so what the hell, he thinks, just for one night. Jack shrugs, his lips curling into an almost-embarrassed grin, and Ally puts on another big smile, immediately standing from her piano bench.

She pulls the microphone out of its stand and brings it to the empty one next to his as Jack sets his guitar aside and adjusts his mic to his standing height. Neither of them are going to play this next song; they’re just going to sing. When he’s ready, he turns his head to look at her again, and she looks at him, too, her eyes sparkling in all the spotlights pointed towards them, and he _loves_ this tour. Not only does it feel like their first one, it _looks_ like their first one; she stands beside him in ripped jeans, sparkly heels, and a bohemian-style cardigan thrown over a sleeveless white lace top that hugs her curves in all the right ways. The gentle waves in her brown hair flow freely around her shoulders, his hat has somehow found its way to _her_ head, and _god_ , he wants to touch her. He wants to pull her in, slide his hand against the strip of bared skin left between her clothes, and sing with his lips against hers, but he knows it’s not the place for that.

“Let’s do that thing we said we were maybe gonna do,” he hears her say into the mic, pulling him from his thoughts. She’s looking back towards the band, keeping the instructions vague for the audience. “Yeah, the thing we rehearsed earlier,” she says with a nod.

Their setlist isn’t set in stone; they allow themselves the freedom to switch it up a little depending on their moods. Sometimes he skips one of his solo numbers in favor of adding another one of hers, preferring to watch her command the stage instead of doing it himself. Sometimes they sing acapella a cover song they’ve had stuck in their heads or something they only decided to sing that afternoon. Sometimes she sings a shortened version of “Why Did You Do That?” and the crowd always laughs right along with her as she sits on top of her piano and gratuitously sings it right to him with a wicked gleam of pure _amusement_ in her eye. That night, however, the surprise song they’re about to perform is only really meant for an audience of one.

“We’re gonna do something a little different tonight, if that’s okay with you guys,” Ally says into the mic, addressing the audience this time. Everyone, of course, begins cheering their approval, and Ally grins. She looks at him with the same sly smirk on her face – she’s _much_ more into this idea than he is – and teasingly says, “Want to tell them what we’re doing?”

Jack glares at her for a moment before he leans sideways into his own microphone and says simply, “I made a big parentin’ mistake a few months ago.”

Ally chuckles at that unexpected answer, looks back to their fans, and says, “You guys know our little girl, right? You know Arizona?” The crowd cheers again, bringing fond smiles to both performers’ faces.

Her name had been an early suggestion from Ally – a nod to their first real show together and the place where they kind of _really_ began, she’d argued – and Jack had brushed it off, accusing her of watching too much _Grey’s Anatomy_ while stuck in bed from the morning sickness that wouldn’t go away, but when their daughter had made her wholly unexpected yet completely healthy arrival several weeks early and right after Jack and Ally had stepped off a stage at a benefit in Phoenix, even he had to concede that their little girl and maybe even the universe itself had seemingly sided with his wife.

“Jack showed her the _Frozen_ movies a couple months ago,” Ally says, revealing his ‘parenting mistake’ to their audience.

“That’s all she wants to watch now,” he says, causing a knowing laughter to rumble through the crowd.

“And then we made it worse by going to see the stage show when we were playing in New York,” Ally continues to explain.

“It’s all she wants to listen to now, too,” Jack says in a disgruntled tone.

“Yeah, we are not exciting anymore,” Ally agrees, gesturing between herself and Jack as more laughter fills the venue. 

“Been upstaged by a fucking snowman,” he mutters.

“ _Jackson_!” Ally gasps almost instantly at the profanity that escapes his lips. Her mouth’s just out of the microphone’s range, so only he hears her, but the audience sees the look on her face, the expression that’s half-surprised and half-scandalized, and even more laughter ensues. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. Ally can turn it on and off like a light switch, easily adapting her words when their daughter’s around as if she doesn’t even have to think twice about it. Changing his own language habits is harder than he ever thought it’d be.

Ally leans into her mic again, getting back to the task at hand. “She’s not usually here for the shows, but my dad’s here tonight,” she says, looking out into the crowd where she knows her family is seated.

The live camera cuts to their loved ones out in the VIP section of the audience, projecting them onto the stage’s screens for everyone to see. Ramon waves excitedly to the crowd. Bobby – their designated tour-time babysitter – stands next to him with a big grin on his face (meaning he’s figured out what’s coming, Jack thinks.) Lorenzo and his friends are there, too, and perched on Lorenzo’s hip is his four-year-old granddaughter in a glittery dress and cowgirl boots. Big, pink headphones wrap around her head to protect her ears from the loud volume of the music.

Jack and Ally both fix their gaze on her from their place on the stage. Arizona and the rest of their guests are far enough back that they’re away from the general admission ticketholders, but they’re not so far away that they can’t see her clear as day. She looks a lot like Ally with her hazel eyes and her mother’s nose, but she has Jack’s natural curls, and they bounce around her shoulders as she sees her parents looking her way and starts enthusiastically waving to them. Lorenzo smiles and hitches the squirming child up a little higher on his hip.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Ally says tenderly.

She gets nervous then, seemingly only just realizing that all eyes in the venue are on her, and keeps her eyes on them as she lays her head down onto Lorenzo’s shoulder, her smile slowly fading into a cute pout. The live shot cuts back to Jack and Ally, the latter giggling at her daughter’s sudden shyness. She waits until Lorenzo kisses her forehead and has her grinning again before she looks to Jack and nods, letting him know she’s ready to sing.

“This one’s for you, baby girl,” he says into the mic, matching the gentle tone Ally had used earlier.

“We love you so much,” Ally adds.

He nods to the band behind them, and the guys start playing the intro to “Love is an Open Door” as Ally sets his hat onto the stool behind him and fluffs up her hair. They’re skipping the parts where the characters in the film talk over the music, and Jack takes the opportunity to lean into the mic and seriously mutter, “Don’t hate us,” his plea to the audience causing an uproarious laugh Ally barely recovers from before she has to start singing.

He can’t believe he’s really standing on a stage singing princess songs to his daughter in front of thousands of people – hell, he still sometimes can’t really believe he has a daughter at all – but Arizona bounces with glee against Lorenzo’s side, mouthing some of the words along with them as they sing, his brother looks more proud than he’s maybe ever seen him look before, and his wife’s voice _soars_ on the chorus, taking his heart right along with it. When they reach the end of the song, Ally throws her arms around his shoulders and presses a joyous kiss against his cheek as the audience applauds, and he thinks it might all be worth the silly headlines they’ll surely find themselves in tomorrow.

 

There’s the usual things they have to do after a show – shake some hands, meet some fans, take some pictures – making an already late night even later, so when they get back to their dressing room, only Lorenzo remains, their daughter asleep in his arms on the couch.

“Oh,” Ally says quietly. Jack’s behind her, still half in the hallway, and she turns to him, putting a finger to her lips. They enter carefully, Ally chuckling when she sees the degree to which Arizona is passed out in her father’s arms.

“She was out the near moment you guys walked off stage,” Lorenzo whispers as they approach him.

Ally turns to Jack and says, in a near-whisper, “We probably really fucked up her schedule tonight.”

“We don’t have anywhere to be for the next three weeks,” Jack reminds her. “It was worth it.”

It’s the first time they’ve ever let her be in the audience at one of their shows. He thinks it’s the best he’s ever played. Lorenzo stands and tries to pass the sleeping child to Ally, but she gestures to Jack instead, a small hint of longing in her eyes. Arizona’s getting just a little too heavy for her to carry.

She wakes just a little as she’s passed from Lorenzo’s arms to Jack’s; Lorenzo’s holding her like a baby, but Jack tries to hold her against his chest. It’s enough jostling to cause her eyes to blink open briefly, and she immediately squeezes them shut again with a small, disoriented whine as the lights in the room flood her vision. Her small fingers curl into Jack’s shirt.

“Mama?” she whispers, having only seen Ally in the few moments her eyes were open.

Ally reaches over and strokes down the center of their daughter’s face to soothe her, something Jack still does to her from time to time, and softly says, “Go back to sleep, baby. We’re going home soon.”

She wriggles in his arms like she doesn’t quite know where she is, and Jack holds her a little tighter. “Daddy’s got you, baby girl,” he promises, guiding her head back to his shoulder. She slings her arms around him, pulling uncomfortably on his neck, and buries her face into his skin. He feels her entire little body relax against him and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Once they’re all sure she’s settled and content in Jack’s arms, the older man in the room reaches for his own little girl. “That was really something, sweetheart,” Lorenzo says with a bit of wonder, wrapping Ally in a hug. “You two…you belong together up there.”

She looks up from her place in his arms with a small smile and mutters, “Thanks, Dad.”

“I’ll see you girls for lunch tomorrow, right?” Lorenzo asks. Ally nods and assures him they’ll be there. “Jack, you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Take ‘em,” he jokes. “I’ve seen enough of them lately.”

Ally chuckles again, a slight roll of her eyes thrown in for good measure, and looks back to her dad. “Do you need us to take you home? Did the guys take the car?”

“Yeah, but it’s out of your way,” Lorenzo says. “Your manager’s calling me one of those Ubers. You go home; I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Ally says.

“And hug that little girl for me next time she’s awake,” Lorenzo says.

“We will,” Jack says. “Thanks for letting her hang out with you tonight.”

“Anytime,” Lorenzo replies with a grin.

 

They drive home in a relative silence, Jack behind the wheel, Ally in the passenger seat, Arizona still sleeping soundly in the backseat. On the road, on those nights that they get a hotel, they have cars to take them to and from their show venues, but here, Jack gets to drive his family home, something he never would’ve dreamed possible just a few short years ago. He can tell Ally’s thinking about it, too, when they reach an inexplicable red light – there’s _no one_ else around – not far from home and she reaches over to caress his cheek. He catches her hand and kisses her palm as the light turns green, and he sees her small smile as a streetlight illuminates her weary face.

When they walk in the front door, it only takes a few moments for a familiar jingling to ring out throughout the silent home, Charlie’s tags clanging together as he bounds towards them, happy to no longer be alone. Jack has Arizona wrapped around his torso, so Ally leans down to greet their fur baby, quiet shushing noises escaping her lips as she scratches behind his ears and lets him lick her chin.

“I’m gonna take her to bed,” Jack whispers, nodding towards Arizona.

“Okay,” Ally whispers back. “I’ll take Charlie out.” She stands up and uses a single finger to lovingly brush a few wayward pieces of hair off her daughter’s face. She wants to kiss her, Jack knows, but she doesn’t want to risk waking her, so she pulls back and nods.

By the time he comes back, Ally’s discarded her cardigan and tossed it over the back of the couch, and he finds her hunched over, locked in a quiet game of tug-of-war with Charlie. The stuffed raccoon stretched between them is no longer _stuffed_ , the white fluff that was its insides spread across the living room floor. She hasn’t even bothered turning a light on, but the outside lights spilling in the uncovered windows is enough. Jack groans at the mess.

“Someone had a busy night,” he says, his voice still hushed.

“At least it was _his_ stuffed animal this time,” Ally says, surrendering the toy to Charlie.

“Shit,” Jack laughs, remembering the day Arizona had gotten a devastating crash course on the importance of _putting toys away_. “You’re right.”

He grabs Ally’s waist from behind, picking her up from her bent position, and wraps his arms around her. Once her back is firmly against his body, he leans down to bury his face in the curve of her neck. Ally moans lightly as his arms tighten around her; she always indulges him when he just wants to hold her.

“That took a while,” she whispers. “She alright?”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “She stirred a little so I got her out of the party dress and into a t-shirt. She’s out.”

“Good,” Ally says languidly, her eyes slipping shut as he breathes her in.

“Remind me why we decided to do a home show in the _middle_ of the tour?” He’s tilted his head down now, and the words come out against the bare part of her shoulder. He puckers his lips and punctuates his question with a light kiss to her skin.

“It’s a good way to make us take a little break,” she says. “Nowhere to be for three weeks, ‘member?”

“I don’t wanna leave again,” he admits on a low moan of his own.

He knows he has everything he has here on the road, too, and he really does love this tour more than anything they’ve done in years, but at that moment, with Ally in his arms, their baby asleep in her bed, and their dog happily sprawled across the floor, he’s never been more content to be home.

Ally reaches up, her arm stretching behind her to cradle his head in her palm. “You used to not want to come back here,” she reminds him.

Jack closes his eyes and burrows into her neck again; that seems like a lifetime ago now. He presses his lips against her neck and mutters, “I know.”

They stand like that in the darkness for a while longer, Charlie happily chewing on the mangled toy at their feet. Jack knows they’re both tired, and he knows they might be dealing with a _very_ cranky child come morning, and he knows they should head to bed, but she smells good, she _feels_ good, his hands are _finally_ sliding against that bare skin above the waistband of her jeans, and he just doesn’t want to move. He opens his mouth and places a slower, firmer kiss on her neck, and he must have hit the right spot because Ally’s lips fall open on a sigh, and the fingers holding his head curl together, gripping his hair in her hand.

“I love you,” he murmurs lowly into her neck, but she hears him.  

Ally turns in his arms and kisses him softly, returning her love with her lips instead of words. She replaces the hand on his head and grips his hair again while her other arm snakes underneath his and curls up to clutch his shoulder. His arms consume her body, wrapping her safely in his tight embrace while they kiss. The sounds of their mingling breaths fill the silence as they grow heavy.

Jack feels her slowly begin to pull away, and he catches her lip with his teeth, gently tugging on it for just a moment before letting it go. His eyes open up just in time to watch her smooth her own tongue over the lip he just bit, but hers stay shut, opening only when she leans back in as if she’s about to initiate another kiss but instead whispers, “Let’s go take a bath together,” against his lips.

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Yeah.”

She brings both hands to his head, one on either side, and pushes his hand behind his ears as she moves to cup his face. “Yeah?” she asks with a grin.

“Yeah,” he agrees, kissing her again. One of her arms slides around his shoulders, and their mouths linger as they carefully begin to make their way to the master bathroom, Ally’s fingers already toying with the buttons on his shirt.

 

Later, when the night has reached an hour far too late for anyone to still be awake, he lays next to Ally in bed, _their_ bed, and while he always feels comforted by simply having her next to him no matter where they are, he’s still just fucking happy to be home. Jack’s on his back, one arm bent above his head, the other at his side; Ally’s on her side facing him, one arm bent underneath her head. The fingers on her other hand lazily play with his, and it’s the only way he knows she hasn’t yet fallen asleep. Charlie, who found his way into their room while they were in the bath, sleeps soundly between them at the foot of the bed, his body preventing them from tangling their legs together beneath the covers.

“It was pretty fucking good tonight, huh?” Jack says quietly.

Ally grins, her eyes remaining on their joined hands. “The music or the sex?” she asks.

Jack grins, too. He’d meant the music, but as he remembers how good she looked in his lap in the tub, her legs bent around him while the water in her long hair dripped into the suds his hands had left behind on her breasts, he says, “Fuck. Both.”

“I thought that might be the answer,” she muses, grin still present on her face.

“I meant the show, though,” he admits.

Ally hums. “It _was_ good tonight, wasn’t it?”

“I can’t believe you got me to sing a fucking princess song on stage.”

She chuckles and looks up at him lovingly as she says, “It was for your baby.”

“Both of ‘em,” he replies, catching her hand in his and giving it a squeeze. She grins and bashfully leans her forehead against his arm. “Maybe the crowd’ll keep that to themselves,” he suggests.

“ _Jack_ ,” she laughs, and he knew the chances of that were nothing less than slim to none, but he would’ve liked to maintain the delusion for the night. “It’s already on YouTube.”

“You looked?”

“When you were checking on Arizona,” she says. “Already a few articles with video links, too.”

“ _Fuck me_ ,” he groans, looking up to the ceiling.

“People think it’s _sweet_!” she insists. “Hey, we could do worse; that song kind of fits us, you know.”

“How?” he asks with a laugh.

“ _All my life has been a series of doors in my face until suddenly I bump into you_ ,” she repeats, speaking the lyrics. She pauses for a moment and says, “Kind of my whole experience with the music industry.”

“I guess that’s true,” he concedes.

Ally’s quiet for a much longer moment then, stroking her fingers up and down his forearm. Finally, in a small voice, she admits, “I want the part about the pain from the past _being_ in the past to be true, too.”

They don’t talk about it much, the days when he was spiraling out, hitting new depths of _rock bottom_ until he’d finally, slowly, excruciatingly crawled his way out with her by his side; that time in their relationship is present in some of the songs they sing now, and that’s enough for them, but every once in a while, she says something like that, and a fresh wave of guilt washes over him. Jack sighs and rolls his head to the side to get a better look at her. He finds her looking at him with careful eyes, waiting for a reaction.

“I really put you through it, didn’t I?” he says.

“Yeah, you did,” Ally says bluntly, not sugarcoating it. But then she reaches up, cups her warm hand around his face, and caresses his cheek with her thumb. “But I’m really glad we made it, honey.”

“Me too,” he replies, leaning into her touch.

“So see?” she whispers, an endearing pout on her face. “Not a bad song for us.”

She leans towards him, using her elbow to hold herself up as she gently presses her lips against his. Jack’s hands slide against the black satin of her nightgown to hold her in place as he moves in for another soft kiss, and though he knows it’s _late_ and they need to _sleep_ and they’ve already made love once that night, he still has to suppress a curse when a little voice rings out from the long hallway into their bedroom.

Ally breaks their kiss and rests her forehead against his, a grin forming on her lips. They’d made a bet while they were relaxing in the bath about the likelihood of Arizona coming to find them on their first night back at home; he owes her five bucks now.

When they hear their names again, Ally pulls back the covers and swings her legs over the side of the mattress, raising her voice just enough to assure her daughter she was coming. Before she can get too far, though, his brain returns to the conversation they were having before they started kissing, and as a realization strikes Jack, he groans.

“What?” Ally asks, turning back around, her eyes wide. Jack shakes his head.

“I think I left the door open when we went to bed,” he mutters, rubbing his temple.

She laughs all the way down the hallway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading :) Feedback is always greatly appreciated!


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